


All can be done together

by clea472



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clea472/pseuds/clea472
Summary: “Currently, he was more preoccupied by the question, how the slight shaking of his hands could have escalated to a blown panic attack in mere minutes. And how a big, disgusting monster and the awful reaction of his teammate did not succeed in killing him but the aftermath very nearly did. “Stephen has a panic attack and his boyfriend is trying to make it better.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The identity of the “mysterious boyfriend” will be revealed in the course of the story. If you do not want to read it without knowing the pairing, scroll down to the end of the story – the name is mentioned in the end notes.
> 
> Have fun!
> 
> PS: I am not a native speaker so please excuse any mistakes.  
> PPS: I am not a trained medic either so please excuse any medical inaccuracies as well.

**Stephen**

 

His hands were trembling.

 

That came as no surprise as his hands were always trembling nowadays.

 

They tremble when he wakes in the morning and when he goes to sleep in the evening. And while being in his astral form he can watch them tremble even when his body is sleeping.

 

His hands were always in constant movement. Sometimes it was so subtle that only he could see it. Other times people standing a few feet away had no problems to notice it without even looking.

 

He had never gotten used to the trembling and the constant pain he felt in his fingers but he had learned how to live with it.

 

He had relearned how to do mundane things like combing his hair or dressing himself, how to pass money over the counter without missing the waiting hand of the cashier or how to pour tea into his favorite cup without spilling too much of it.

 

Of course, being able to perform magic had helped, but it had also needed his acceptance that his hands would never ‘not’ tremble.

 

So, looking down at his hands now, Stephen should not be surprised by the irregular movements his fingers were making, clearly without his intent.

But he was.

Surprised.

 

Because his hands were not only trembling, they were shaking.

And based on his observations during the last minutes the shaking was getting worse.

 

This led Stephen to the conclusion that the involuntary movement of his appendages was probably not caused by the ever-present reminder of his car accident but by something else.

 

Being the genius doctor that he was, Stephen’s mind provided him with a whole list of possible medical reasons that could be responsible for the state he found himself in.

The longer the list got the more severe the illness or injury became, until Stephen sighed and stopped his hypochondriac musings.

 

He knew exactly what was causing the shaking of his hands and it was neither the Parkinson’s disease nor a nerve damage in his spine.

 

The symptoms were the physical repercussions of the emotional state he found himself in after recent events, plain and simple as that. Because today Stephen had not only came closest to death since his torturous fight with Dormammu, he had nearly lost good and dear friends at the same time.

 

If he had reacted a few seconds too late or had had an ounce of energy less, death would have been his and his friends fate. Pulverized in the streets of New York while fighting the probably most disgusting inter-dimensional monster ever seen.

 

It stank like the turd of a dog who had eaten the vomit of a dying rat – not his words.

This very unwelcome mental picture had been provided by Spiderman who, when arriving on the battle scene, could not decide if he needed his right hand more for shooting his webs (aka not crash-landing) or for clamping his nose shut.

 

Even after the fight the stink still permeated the city. The remains of the monster whose body had unfortunately also resembled Spiderman’s description of its odor could not be removed easily as they were literally stuck to the now ruined Central Park.

 

Stephen would have to consult his books about how to get rid of the remains.

 

Actually, that‘s what he should be doing right now, that’s why he had come back to the Sanctum Sanctorum. At least it was the reason he had given to the others.

 

The real reason why he had come back was that he needed the refuge to think about what had happened today and judging by the weird dance his hands were making to maybe break down a little.

Just a little though, he wouldn‘t have time for more.

 

Eventually, he would need to return to the Avengers compound to present the solution for the olfactory problem and to continue the ‘discussion’ he had stolen away from.

 

By now, the shaking of his hands had gained in strength and also expanded its territory as his arms and upper body also joined the weird dance.

 

‘It is getting worse’, Stephen realized. As if on cue he suddenly felt awfully cold all over.

 

Rationally, he knew that he should do something about it. Having sent Cloak to the compound with an injured Peter, he should find himself a blanket, get something warm to drink and tell someone about his problem before the attack would overtake his whole body and would therefore become a real medical issue.

 

However, all he did was staying seated on the top of the grand staircase of the Sanctum, replaying the events of the day over and over again in his head.

 

Who should he call anyway? Wong was at the Kamar Taj and while he would certainly come when Stephen asked him to, how should he explain things to the trusted sorcerer without bearing the consequences?

If he told Wong now, he would not be able to stop what was coming, the decision would be made then.

 

His second choice for help would be Christine but she was surely busy taking care of of all the wounded and shocked people, having witnessed the inter-dimensional mess in Central Park today. She had better things to do than to cuddle an over-emotional sorcerer.

 

His third choice…

 

Again a long sigh escaped Stephen’s mouth although his breath was rattled, the air only escaping in short intervals.

 

His breathing was already impaired by the attack, he distantly noted. He really should call someone as long as he still could.

 

But who? He could not call Wong, Christine wasn’t an option either. That left the one person Stephen normally contacted when in need.

 

The person he turned to, when he was hurt and didn’t want Christine to fuss over him, while giving him her ‘I disapprove of your life decisions’-face.

 

The person who listened to him when he was at a magical impasse and just couldn’t find the right spell or, having it found, couldn’t yet perform it.

 

The person who shared his worries that one day an enemy would be too strong to be defeated, that one day they couldn’t save those around them, that one day they would fail...

 

But he could not go to this person now, as this person was at the center of his dilemma.

How can you ask someone for advice, when the decision you have to make would have consequences on your advisor’s life?

 

Stephen’s vision suddenly became blurry. The increasing lack of oxygen was influencing his brain function, it wouldn’t be long before he passed out.

 

‘Better lie down now, Stephen’ his brain still provided him with some helpful information. But again he didn’t move, couldn’t move. He just closed his eyes.

 

And then the hallucinations started. Sounds mostly. Someone calling his name, knocking and pounding, the noises coming from everywhere and anywhere, getting steadily louder.

 

They circled around him, hitting him from left and right, from above and below:

 

Stephen.

Knock.

 

Stephen.

Knock.

 

Stephen – knock – Stephen – knock – Stephen – knock – on and on it went.

 

‘Now is really the time to lie down or you will crack your head open in a few moments’. Apparently, his brain hadn’t given up yet and still tried to do some damage control.

 

So Stephen finally moved.

 

However, he did not lie down. Instead he raised his shaking arms to put his equally shaking hands on his ears in order to block out the deafening chorus of ‘Stephen’ and ‘knock’.

 

Unfortunately, by lifting his arms he also shifted his weight and, being the shaking half-coherent mess he currently was, promptly lost his balance.

 

‘So this is how you intend to end it, face-planted at the bottom of the stairs,’ was the last rational thought his resigned and slightly passive-aggressive brain provided him with.

 

The two hands that suddenly prevented his downfall by grabbing his shoulders and the solid body he was pulled into were so unexpected that Stephen let out a loud shriek. His impaired breathing probably didn’t make it sound as loud as it resonated in his head but it definitely wasn’t his strongest moment.

 

While Stephen pondered his lack of stoic manlihood, his savior pulled him back even further until Stephen’s lower body no longer lay on the stairs but on the solid floor. His upper body was flush against this other person’s.

 

The risk of falling down the stairs was clearly banned, whereas the symptoms of shock and panic attack still gripped his whole body. Shaking all over he could only achieve some small bursts of breaths, his eyes were still tightly shut.

 

The person behind him began to rub his arms, then stroked his back until he finally took one of Stephen’s weirdly dancing hands into his own, hugging Stephen’s lower body with both of their arms and laying his other hand over Stephen’s heart.

 

Then he felt a head on his right shoulder and soft hair caressing his cheek as the person turned his mouth to Stephen’s ear.

 

“Breathe.”

 

The command did not sound like one. It was no suggestion but not rough and demanding either. It was full of confidence that Stephen would do so, because he trusted the person who asked this of him, implicitly and with no reservations.

 

Stephen breathed.

 

First, there was no big difference between his frantic struggles to pull some oxygen into his lungs and his attempts to really breathe. But little by little and guided by the vocal ‘breathe’ of his savior he achieved a more regular rhythm.

 

With the steady provision of oxygen his brain decided to make a return to the land of the (rational) living and informed Stephen that a) his ‘hallucinations’ from before had apparently been a very real person, knocking on the door of the Sanctum, calling his name and b) that there is only one person who could be his mysterious savior currently holding him firmly in his arms and telling him to ‘breathe’.

 

“Steve” he let slip between two labored breaths. The hand on his tightened a fraction, but the pattern of ‘breathe’ was not broken and so they continued a few more minutes of breathing together. Stephen inhaled when he heard the not-command and exhaled when he felt Steve’s hand pushing a little against his own.

In. And out. In. And out. “Breathe.”

 

After having revealed the identity of his savior to him, his brain supplied him with some more useful facts. For example, he was not shaking as violently anymore. That was probably thanks to Steve’s unnaturally warm body pressing against him, holding him, comforting him.

Stephen sighed.

Again.

 

During this whole episode all he had done was sighing, panting for breath and shrieking. He was impressed by how gracefully he had handled the repercussions of this awful day.

Another sigh. Clearly his brain was fully back online if it was capable of sarcasm.

 

Steve seemed to take the sighs as a sign that the sorcerer was out of immediate danger and stopped the breathing-instructions. Instead he lifted his hand from Stephen’s heart and started again to stroke the still slightly shaking bundle of Sorcerer Supreme up and down his arms and upper body. And then came the next not-command:

 

“Relax”.

 

That would have elicited a laugh out of Stephen, if he didn’t have to concentrate so much on breathing. ‘Relaxing’ wasn’t really on the forefront of his rebooted mind.

 

Currently, he was more preoccupied by the question, how the slight shaking of his hands could have escalated to a blown panic attack in mere minutes. And how a big, disgusting monster and the awful reaction of his teammate did not succeed in killing him but the aftermath very nearly did.

 

By pondering that mystery the shaking regained in intensity, until he heard the repetition of the not-command: “Relax”.

 

And he did.

Because Steve said so.

Because Steve was here with him, sitting on the top of his staircase.

Holding him.

Taking care of him.

Keeping him safe.

 

Slowly, Stephen started to relax his muscles. First in his left arm, that was held by Steve against his waist. The shaking did not disappear but the tension bled away. Then the other arm. And then his back, his neck and his head.

 

While before it had been Steve, who had pressed against him, it was now the sorcerer who let his whole body weigh against the soldier behind him.

 

“It was Wanda’s fault.” Just like that, he had said it.

 

And having that done, Stephen was able to completely relax. He had made his decision now, he can’t take it back. And even though he feared Steve’s reaction, he also knew that it was the only way, how to handle things.

 

Steve stopped the stroking, “I know.”

 

Surprised Stephen turned around, only to realize that he hadn’t yet opened his eyes again. He blinked a bit until he could focus on the face in front of him. Steve looked at him, eyes clearly searching for any remaining effects of the sorcerer’s breakdown. There was no recognition of the bomb he had just dropped on Stephen.

 

“You knew?” the sorcerer’s voice rose in volume, still not quite believing, what he had just heard.

 

“You knew that she willingly endangered all of our lives today?”

 

Still no reaction from Steve, except for a barely there shaking of his head. So Stephen continued:

 

“You knew and did not withdraw her immediately from the fight?

You knew and let the others insult me for ‘endangering them’, while all I did was saving their sorry asses?

You knew and let me take the blame?”

 

At that point his voice broke and the panting restarted. And with it came the cold, the shaking and some sudden bout of vertigo. Talking so much had probably not been a good idea.

 

But he could not not believe what Steve had just revealed to him. All the different ways of action he had been pondering before, all the things he had considered doing or saying as to solve the problem without putting any blame on Steve… Not once had he thought of the possibility, that Steve had been aware of what Wanda had done today, had known about the danger she had put everyone in, had known and done nothing.

Had broken his promise.

 

Wanda’s magic has always been powerful. When Stephen had felt her using it for the first time in New York City, he had immediately portalled to her location. There, he had met not only the Scarlet Witch, but also the Black Widow, Falcon, the Winter Soldier, and Captain America for the first time.

 

Stephen has never been interested in the Avengers but of course he knew all about them. As long as they did not present a magical threat, he had decided not to meddle into their business. By doing that he had hoped not to be meddled with either.

 

When Earth had faced the threat of a maniacal Titan trying to conquer the whole universe, only to kill half of its population, Stephen had been far away, in a different dimension, battling a different enemy.

 

That had left the Avengers and the Guardians of the Galaxy to fight Thanos and his armies alone, but also put the time stone out of reach. In the end, the Avengers had won, they had defeated Thanos and had saved Earth once more. From there on everything changed.

 

Nations united to develop defense strategies against extraterrestrial attacks together, the Avengers had been reinstated with all the freedom they demanded and Steve Rogers and Tony Stark had kissed and made up.

Literally.

 

When Stephen had first met Steve Rogers in New York he had been the very public boyfriend of Tony Stark. That had lasted for about six months and had led to a monumental break-up with Stark blasting up half of his tower and Steve disappearing from Earth for a few months. (He called it his ‘internship’ with the Guardians of the Galaxy.)

 

But before that, when everything was still well in StarkRogersLand, Steve and his merry band had stopped a gang robbery in Manhatten, only to come face to face with the Sorcerer Supreme, having felt the Scarlet Witch’s magic for the first time.

 

It was Stephen’s job to keep the Sanctum safe and to keep everyone around it safe from wrongly used or uncontrolled magic. While Wanda seemed to be fairly competent, Stephen never trusted her ability to channel the raw power she possessed.

 

That’s why he had proposed an education at the Kamar Taj at their first meeting, but Wanda had refused, insisting that her magic was different from the Sorcerer Supreme’s, as it had always been just there, had always been hers. Consequently, she thought that there was nothing she could learn from him or any of the other masters.

 

And so Stephen could only watch as her magic grew more and more powerful, while Wanda did nothing to adapt to it. He had tried to talk to the other Avengers, to Steve, to Tony, even to SHIELD. But none of them had listened.

 

Steve, because he believed in Wanda. Tony, because he felt guilty for the death of her parents (and maybe still feared her a little) and SHIELD, because they feared Stephen more than the Scarlet Witch.

 

The only one who had not dismissed Stephen’s worries had been Thor during one of his visits on ‘Midgard’. Having grown up with a very different concept of magic and feeling the energy concentrating in and around Wanda, he had agreed that she could not be left on her own devices.

 

That opened up a new round of talks, first with Wanda, then with Steve and Wanda, then with Steve alone, then with all of the Avengers.

 

In the end, Stephen had been called a paranoid, controlling wizard who could not handle someone being more powerful than him. And Thor had left Earth.

To prevent another Civil War, the God of Thunder had said.

Because he was a pussy, the Sorcerer Supreme had said.

 

After that, Stephen had kept close track of Wanda. Because he knew, with absolute certainty, that one day she would be too powerful and would slip. And then he needed to be there to contain her and the destructive power she would release.

 

It had taken her half a year to become aware of Stephen’s tracking spell. It had taken Captain America one hour to get to the Sanctum to threaten Stephen from here to Wakanda and back for stalking Wanda. It had taken them only twenty minutes to decide that fucking would be better than yelling.

 

That’s how he and Steve had become fuck-buddies. After a few months and some post-coital talking they had become friends. And after a memorable attack by HYDRA and the near-death of Captain America they had made love for the first time.

 

Falling in love was not something that Stephen did easily, committing himself to a relationship even less. And while they had their ups and downs as every regular couple, they were still so very much in love with each other.

 

‘You grew into a love-sick fool,’ he admonished himself. He had trusted Steve, had trusted his belief, that the best way to make sure that Wanda would never become a threat was to let her be an Avenger.

 

Very early in their relationship Stephen had understood that his partner loved Wanda. Not like he loved him, more like a little sister. But despite this love Steve had assured the sorcerer over and over again, that he could still assess the situation like a soldier and not only like a brother. That even if he wanted to help Wanda to become the great witch she was destined to be, he would do the right thing, if he ever suspected, that she had become dangerous instead.

 

Clearly, this had been a lie.

 

Because Steve ‘had known’ and he had done nothing. He had not warned Stephen, had not consulted the Sorcerer Supreme but had instead let Wanda unleash this massive amount of magic today, that had nearly wiped out New York City.

 

Stephen had been performing a complicated and taxing protection spell to shield his fellow combatants and everyone outside the battle ground from the monster, when he had felt it. A massive accumulation of magic surrounding the Scarlet Witch. She had been creating more and more energy

around her, the magic engulfing her.

 

To Stephen’s shock, he had realized that she was intending to throw all of it towards the monster. He had immediately created a telepathic channel, connecting his mind to her thoughts, shouting at her to stop the madness. But Wanda had all but thrown him out of her head, giving him her usual line: “I know what I am doing.”

 

That had left Stephen with only a few seconds to react before she unleashed the magic. The only option he had had was to modify the protection spell. Instead of shielding the Avengers and the rest of New York, he had used the shield as a containment field, trying to absorb as much from her magic as possible.

 

And he had succeeded.

 

Only a tiny part of Wanda’s magic had escaped the field. That had still been enough to burn a hole into the monster, to smother all the trees behind it and to shoot Spiderman out of the sky.

 

The kid had been trying to blind the monster’s numerous eyes with his webs, when he had been touched by the magic. He had fallen from the sky like a brick, before Iron Man had caught him. What had followed was not pretty.

 

The monster was dead but Peter had been badly hurt and Iron Man had not held back with his accusations towards the Sorcerer Supreme. Stark had not witnessed, what Wanda had done, he had only seen the sorcerer suddenly dropping his shield, leaving Peter defenseless.

 

The other Avengers had soon joined Iron Man in his accusations, getting more and more vile, until Stephen had sent Cloak to transport Peter to the medical facility in the Avengers compound and had fled the scene under the pretext of finding a spell to clean Central Park from the remains of turd-monster.

 

While Steve had tried to calm the others after the sudden ending of their fight, Stephen had remained silent. Because if he had told the truth, the Avengers would not have only blamed Wanda for Peter’s injury (which Stephen had no problem with), but sooner or later also Steve.

 

The soldier had taken responsibility for Wanda, had assured everyone that he would not let her use her power uncontrolled. By blaming her, the sorcerer would have also been blaming Steve. And then he would have had to break Steve’s heart by taking Wanda away. As the Sorcerer Supreme it was his duty to contain the Scarlet Witch immediately. She had no sense of her power anymore, could not measure her magic. The next time she would use it, she might succeed in wiping a whole city.

 

So what Stephen should have done was telling the Avengers about Wanda and then taking her to a cell in Kamar Taj. What he had done was fleeing the scene, only to break down in his own home because he could not bring himself to hurt the one he loved.

 

Instead he was now the one being hurt, deeply hurt by Steve who ‘had known’.

 

All the hard work of the last minutes was for nothing, Stephen was again panting and shaking all over. He was desperately trying to get away from the soldier who was still holding him. His struggles to break free were futile though, being in the state he was in, he had no chance against a super soldier. His mind was too erratic, his flow of energy too uncontrolled as that he could use any form of magic.

 

All he could do was lean away as far as possible from Steve as his mind painted the whole picture of the betrayal Steve had just revealed to him. He was so lost in his mind and in his reawakened panic that it took the sorcerer some time before he became aware of the by now frantic Steve talking to him: “Please, calm down, please, please, Stephen, you have to calm down!”

 

Whereas Steve’s not-commands from before had been sure and confident, they were now nearly as panicked as Stephen felt. They did the trick nonetheless as Stephen’s mind, treacherous as it was, decided that whatever Steve suggested was a good idea. (He really should have a look into this strange rift between ‘him’ and ‘his mind’ when this was over. That can’t be healthy. Scratch that, as a neurosurgeon he ‘knew’ that it was definitely not healthy.)

 

Having calmed down enough that he could at least breathe again he looked Steve in the eyes. Which was a mistake as he was confronted with Steve’s puppy dog eyes filled with guilt.

Great.

They hadn’t even started to fight and Steve had already pulled out the big guns.

 

“I’m sorry, please, I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, you misunderstood,” Steve exclaimed.

 

Okay, not bad as an explanation, Stephen thought. Putting the blame on him for this fucked up situation was a sound strategy. Although he was sure that Steve could do better. Why stopping there? He could for example continue by putting a blade into the sorcerer’s back.

 

Stephen didn’t express any of his thoughts verbally (he was still having trouble with the simple task of in- and exhaling) but some of it must have shown on his face as Steve looked even more chagrined than before.

 

“That came out wrong, of course, none of it is your fault,” Steve said before looking down and taking a deep breath (bastard could do it just like that). When the soldier lifted his head again, the puppy look was gone instead his eyes were filled with some new determination.

 

“I didn’t know that Wanda was so out of control. And I didn’t know what had went wrong. I saw Peter lying there, Tony yelling obscenities at you and you… you were just standing there, frozen. But even if I had no idea yet what had happened, I knew that you would have never endangered Peter.” The last sentence was emphasized by the tightening of Steve’s arm around the sorcerer’s waist.

 

“Do you hear me, Stephen, I never thought you could do something so irresponsible. And I am sorry, that I didn’t say that more clearly before. I just wanted everyone to calm down before we talked about it. I did not want you to take the blame for something you haven’t done.”

 

Steve stopped talking for a moment and stared at the sorcerer, waiting for any sign, that Stephen would not believe him. He had to admit that the intensity of Steve’s stare and speech was a convincing argument that what he was told right now was the truth.

 

Although, it did not explain why and ‘when’ Steve had known what had really happened during the battle. Again Steve must have somehow sensed what was on the sorcerer’s mind as he promptly delivered the answer to his question: “Bucky told me.” Stephen lowered his head.

The Winter Soldier.

Of course.

 

At the end of day it always came back to James “Bucky” Barnes, long-time friend of Steven Rogers and the reason why Captain America and the Sorcerer Supreme still were a pair (or had been until now).

 

Contrary to the belief of the media, fans, some fellow avengers and probably everyone who had some minor interest in the shenanigans of superheroes, Bucky Barnes had never stood between him and Steve. Quite the opposite, Bucky did everything to make them stay together, mainly by informing Steve of every single mistake he was making and by instructing him how to do better.

 

However, Bucky didn’t stop there. To the utmost delight of Wong he had also come by the Sanctum Sanctorum at several occasions to make it very clear to the Sorcerer Supreme, Master of the Mystic Arts, that he was a self-absorbed prick who should stop pretending that he was alone in this relationship and instead listen to what his boyfriend had to say.

 

Stephen had to admit that Bucky was never wrong when yelling at him. And apparently he had once more tried to save his relationship by making the decision for him and telling Steve about Wanda.

 

A finger under his chin forced Stephen to look up again, right into the blue, blue eyes of Steve who decidedly did not want to speak to the sorcerer without staring intensely at him.

 

“When you were gone, Bucky came to me and told me that Peter’s wound did not look like the ones caused by that monster’s slime. And that the only time he had seen such a wound was when Wanda had used her magic on someone.”

 

At that Steve’s gaze became very determined again. “You did not just drop the protective shield, didn’t you? You had to use it somewhere else. To contain whatever Wanda was throwing at that monster?”

 

He stared at Steve. And then nodded. His assumption had been wrong, Steve did not know before, or during or even immediately after. He knew because Bucky Barnes was damn observant and could put two and two together.

 

Even though he didn’t want to admit to himself how utterly devastated he had been at the prospect of Steve’s betrayal, he relished the relief now flooding him. Steve had not lied to him. His trust was not misplaced.

He sighed.

Again.

 

And again Steve took that as a cue that the state of the Sorcerer Supreme had changed for the better. He slid out from under Stephen, shifted his arm from the sorcerer’s waist to his shoulders and slid the other arm under his knees, picking him up bridal style in one fluid motion.

 

Normally, Stephen would protest such an action. He was not to be carried around like some damsel in distress. The only one who was allowed to carry him around at all was Cloak and even then he refused this position.

 

But right now he was too exhausted to voice any refusal. With the last of Steve’s explanation his remaining energy seemed to be gone. A remaining hitch in his breath, his still trembling legs and arms and the general feeling of ‘cold’ reminded him that he was still in shock. And that, if not treated correctly, his meltdown could reproduce itself anytime with more violent repercussions.

 

He was not really interested in gaining a heart condition, so he again did not utter any refusals when Steve deposited him on his bed and tucked him in, spreading an extra blanket over the sorcerer’s body before laying down beside him.

 

One of his hands went back to where Stephen’s heart was located under the thick layer of two blankets and his robes. ‘To check my heart rate,’ Stephen realized. Apparently his boyfriend was a more competent doctor than he was.

 

The other hand found its way to Stephen’s head, fingers softly stroking over his dark hair, separating it into individual strands and then digging a bit deeper, massaging the scalp with every stroke.

 

For the moment that was all that could be done.

 

Today he had averted what would have been a catastrophe on so many levels that he could not even think of all the consequences. And that’s what he did now, not thinking about it. Not thinking about the lives he had saved, how he had nearly not been strong enough to do it, how he could have lost Steve…

 

Stephen was just lying there, trying to get his body back under control with Steve watching over him. He knew that this was just the beginning of it, that he had to contact Kamar Taj next. That Wanda needed to be brought there with or without her consent. That Steve had to face not only that but also the other Avengers and his error of judgment. And that Stephen had to seriously examine how quickly he had let himself believe that Steve would betray him like that and what that meant for their relationship.

 

But all of this could not be done right now.

 

And all of it could be done together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Steven**

 

Steve was confused.

 

They had been fighting that brown abomination of a monster for what felt like hours without any success whatsoever. Their weapons and powers were useless, their enemy seemed to be invincible. The monster, on the contrary, had no problems with attacking and after some close-calls at the beginning, Dr. Strange had created a magical shield surrounding the Avengers to prevent any of the slimy shots finding their targets.

 

Just as Steve had been seriously considering to call for Heimdall so that he could send Thor and his axe to Earth, the monster had suddenly made some strange poof-sound and had deflated into itself, leaving a brown mountain of gooey chunks in the middle of Central Park.

Steve winced thinking of the poor souls who had to get rid of that mess.

Nothing if not efficient, some SHIELD-agents had already swarmed out and tried to put the remnants of their late enemy into containment boxes. Only to realize that what was left of the monster was now firmly stuck to the former green lawns.

Disgusting.

 

As mysterious as that post-mortem superglue ability was, it was not the reason for Steve‘s current confusion.

That had rather been caused by the quick and seemingly unprompted demise of their enemy.

How the hell had that happened?

 

He must have voiced his thought out loud as Bucky, who was standing next to him, shot him a look that was half fond desperation, half calculation.

Before Steve could ask him what he wanted to tell him by ‚that‘ look (Bucky thought he had mastered ‘communication via look‘ with Steve but most of the time he left his counterpart guessing) they heard a loud yell from Iron Man‘s mechanical voice through the comm.

 

“Iron Man. Report,” Steve spoke into his own communicator but did not receive an answer.

 

When arriving at Central Park earlier, Captain America had the Avengers spread around the monster, the Winter Soldier and himself at the back, Black Widow, Dr. Strange, and Scarlet Witch in the front while Iron Man, Falcon and Spiderman had been circling around the brown monstrosity, trying to find a vulnerable spot.

 

So instead of repeating his command, Steve, followed by Bucky, ran around the biggest chunks of dead monster to find a downed Peter Parker, laying in the arms of Iron Man. Black Widow was kneeling beside them, pressing a field dressing to a bleeding wound in Peter‘s left side.

 

„Why did you do that, you fucking moron?“, the voice of Iron Man sounded again in Captain America’s ear.

Even if the mechanical alteration of his voice normally prevented any transmission of emotion, Steve could clearly hear how absolutely livid Tony was behind his mask.

And judging by the direction he was throwing his insults to, the designated ‚fucking moron‘ was one Sorcerer Supreme.

That was not good.

Not good at all.

 

Calming down an angry Tony was a hassle even on the best of days but when Tony was angry at Stephen it was a challenge comparable to the big brown monster they had just fought (and mysteriously defeated).

 

The relationship between Tony and Stephen was a very strained one. Not only because they were both very much convinced of their own competence and because they let everyone around them know about said competence, it was also because Tony hated magic and was by extension wary of every witch, magician and sorcerer he had ever met.

However, the main reason why the two men who were more alike than they thought, could never find a common ground was Steve.

 

Steve who had lived through this unbelievable roller coaster of an affair with Tony that had left them both reeling for months. Only for Steve to find so much happiness in his relationship with the very sorcerer Tony could not stand. That led to a lot of childish and petty behavior on Tony’s side, and, after some weak and failed attempts of reconciliation for Steve’s benefit, to barely civil contempt on Stephen’s side.

 

After a monumental fight when the only way to prevent the two men from attacking each other for real had been to physically separate them (bless Steve’s and Bucky’s enhanced strength), the Avengers made sure that Tony and Stephen only met if absolutely necessary. That was fine with the sorcerer, as he had told Steve very early on that he had no interest in becoming an Avenger. Therefore, they had agreed to only call him in, if the threat was magical or, as in the case of today, undefinable.

 

While fighting, Iron Man and Dr. Strange normally worked together without a hitch and afterwards Stephen would always leave immediately. He never participated in the SHIELD debriefing (although that had probably more to do with SHIELD than with Tony) and never joined them for after-fight celebrations. Which was a pity because Steve would have loved to share the post-battle rush not only with his friends but also with his boyfriend.

 

But Tony hated Stephen’s guts and Stephen had no interest in investing any more energy to win over the billionaire. “It’s exhausting enough to restrain myself from teleporting that asshole to the Antarctic every time he opens his rotten mouth. You can’t ask for more,” he had once told Steve when the soldier had tried once again to make peace between his former and current boyfriend.

 

Right now, it seemed that it was Tony who had to restrain himself from shooting Dr. Strange to the Antarctic.

The ‘fucking moron’ had already gotten upgraded to ‘motherfucker’ and Tony, having left Peter in the capable hands of Natasha, advanced in full Iron Man mode towards the sorcerer.

 

And Stephen? He just stood there, staring at a point over Tony’s shoulder, face pale and eyes glazed over. That’s when Steve became really worried.

Normally, Stephen would not have hesitated to confront Iron Man. He would have given back as good as he got and he surely would have created some form of physical protection from the thrusters currently pointed in his direction. Something was very wrong with the sorcerer.

It was past time that Steve took control of the situation.

 

“Iron Man, stand down”, he shouted.

When Tony did not stop his advance on Stephen, he repeated the command more sharply, using his ‘I will take no shit from you’-Captain-America-voice.

Iron Man turned his head for a second but, again, did not stop.

Until he smacked into the broad blue chest that had suddenly appeared right in front of him, Steve having used his speed and body bulk to prevent Iron Man from reaching his target.

 

“Stop”, he commanded once more. That made Tony lift his face plate.

As Steve had suspected the face underneath was contorted by rage and nearly as pale as Stephen’s behind him.

 

“That fucking motherfucker tried to kill Peter! Do you hear what I’m saying, Steve? Your ‘boyfriend’ decided in mid-battle that we were not worthy of his protection anymore and lifted his shield without even telling us.” Tony yelled.

 

Steve looked at Peter who was still lying unconscious on the ground, being treated by Natasha and now also a SHIELD-medic, waiting to be air-lifted by a helicopter that was hopefully already on it’s way. Tony pointed at the downed boy “This, this is ‘his’ fault and I will make him answer for it.” Iron Man’s face plate slid back up and he gave Steve a strong push, intending to clear the way to the still very silent sorcerer.

 

However, Captain America did not budge, instead he shoved Iron Man a few steps back.

 

Steve understood that Tony was worried about Peter, who was something like a surrogate son to him, understood that attacking Stephen was a sort of release for all the worry and the panic Tony had to be feeling right now. But he had to get himself back under control before he would do something that he would regret later.

 

Before Steve would do something that he would regret later.

 

“You need to calm down, Tony. Right now you are not helping Peter at all”, he told Iron Man patiently, trying to instill some sense into the very emotional man in front of him. Unfortunately, that seemed to have the opposite effect of the one Steve had hoped for as the billionaire got even more angry.

 

“Calm down? ‘Calm down’? Have you even listened to one word I’ve just said? Your boyfriend could have Peter killed, Steve! And he will get what he deserves right now,” Iron Man shouted through his mask and closed the distance separating him and Captain America, trying once again to shove him out of the way, this time with the help of his boot thrusters.

 

Steve countered the move by digging his heals into the ground and strongly gripped the red and golden arms of the Iron Man armor.

“I will not fight you, Tony,” Steve said tersely, “not again.”

 

Tony paused in his struggles. Like Steve he was probably flashing back to Siberia and the fight between them there. That had also been about a ‘murderous’ friend of Steve’s and his refusal to let Tony exact any sort of physical revenge.

 

Bucky too must have sensed the change in the mood as he came to stand closely behind Steve, nearly touching him, comforting him with his presence.

 

Before Steve could say anything else to diffuse the situation and finally make Tony calm down, Nathasha stood up and looked straight into his face. “Iron Man is right. Strange dropped the shield,” she stated matter-of-factly.

 

She stared at Steve, clearly waiting for some reaction from him but he was not sure what he should say to that. The situation was getting out of control quickly, especially because Stephen didn’t seem to have any interest in defending himself. Emotions were always running high after someone from the team had gotten injured during battle. When this someone was Peter, it was even worse as they were all very protective of the kid.

 

Tony blaming Stephen for what had happened to Spiderman was not a big surprise, Natasha doing so was though. She would not bring forward such accusations without having seen it herself. And that she did so while they were still on the battle field and not during debrief after, meant that the situation had rattled the former spy more than Steve would have thought. Or, that he had seriously underestimated how deep the animosity against Stephen in the team really run. Maybe it was not just Tony who had a problem with the sorcerer?

 

Not getting what she wanted from Steve, Natasha turned around and looked at the sorcerer “I won’t fight alongside you again,” she declared before sitting back down at Peter’s side.

 

Again, Steve tried to come up with an appropriate answer that would calm everyone down, so that they could talk about it later, when Peter was taken care of and when Stephen had come out of whatever stupor he was currently in.

 

Steve was just opening his mouth, when Sam piped up with a sorrowful look in his eyes: “That’s true, man. I saw it too.”

 

That left Steve reeling.

He trusted the judgment of his teammates. But he also trusted Stephen.

He ‘knew’ Stephen, knew that he would never endanger any of the Avengers like that. Even if he wasn’t officially part of the team and was more used to fighting on his own, he didn’t take the responsibility he had towards his co-combatants lightly.

 

If the sorcerer said that he would shield them, he would do so with everything he had, Steve was convinced of it. That meant, that Stephen must have had a very good reason why he had dropped the shield and it had probably something to do with the very quick demise of their adversary.

 

Maybe he had seen something coming the others had not yet been aware of?

Had he seen a future that he had to prevent at any cost? And an injured Peter had to be just that cost?

Could it be that Stephen had done that? Abandoning the protection of the Avengers in favor of felling the monster in one quick swipe?

 

Sam must have had a similar thought process as he was just voicing that theory out loud.

Although, he left out the part where Stephen wouldn’t have had any other choice, eliciting a new string of swear words from Tony.

While the other Avengers seemed to believe in Sam’s explanation of things, Dr. Strange deeming killing the monster more important than the safety of the Avengers, Steve knew deep down that it was not true, knew that Stephen was not that careless towards human life.

 

But again he was just a tad too late to influence the chain of events by defending the integrity of his boyfriend. Instead said boyfriend finally woke up from his stupor and started to take things into his own hands. He released his cloak from his shoulders and sent it to Spiderman. The cloak wriggled under the injured boy, slapped Natasha’s hands away, rolled around Peter’s body and gently lifted him into the air.

At that, Iron Man redoubled his efforts to break free from Steve’s grip, starting again to insult the sorcerer.

 

“I am not abducting him, Stark. Going to the Avenger’s compound like this is quicker than with the helicopter and does less damage to his injured body than going with you,” Stephen spoke, voice flat, face still pale.

 

Silence fell after his words, as everyone was waiting for him to continue, to explain his actions during battle. But there came no explanation from the Sorcerer Supreme who was silently examining the destruction around them.

 

Just when Steve felt Tony taking a deep breath to launch another tirade, Stephen’s emotionless voice rose again. “It seems that SHIELD has some difficulties with the clean-up. I will consult the books how we can get rid of the… leftovers.” He then opened a portal and disappeared to what Steve quickly identified as the entrance hall of the Sanctum Sanctorum.

 

Once the sorcerer was gone Tony visibly deflated.

The rage Steve had witnessed only moments before was replaced by a look of deep worry.

Steve let go of the Iron Man armor and without any further comment Tony immediately launched himself into the air to follow Peter to the compound.

 

“It is your responsibility as a leader of this team to hold Strange accountable for his actions today,” Natasha had suddenly appeared beside him and judging by her statement she would not just disappear as Stephen and Tony had done before.

 

Steve shook his head, “There is more to what happened today than we can see now, Natasha.”

He would not throw the sorcerer under the bus as easily as the others had done.

“We have not heard what Stephen has to say to any of it.”

Natasha snorted, “It’s not like he didn’t have the chance to. Don’t you think that someone like Strange knows how to express himself if he was falsely accused?”

 

Just when Steve wanted to give an answer to that he was, again, beaten to the bush by someone else. It seemed that his reaction time today was really off, robbing him of the possibility to finally gain some control over the situation.

 

“That’s enough, leave him alone, Natasha. Let’s pack up and talk about it during debrief,” Bucky didn’t seem to have any problems with control as he effortlessly took over the role Steve should normally fulfill.

Natasha huffed but followed Bucky’s order. Together with Sam she went to the quinjet, parked at the edge of Central Park and hopefully free of any ‘souvenirs’ of the monster.

 

That left only Wanda standing on the former battle ground who, like Stephen before, seemed to be frozen to a spot, looking at the ground where Peter had lain with a puddle of blood as a reminder of his injury.

 

“You too, Wanda, go back to the quinjet. Steve and I will join you in a minute.” Bucky again.

She blinked a few times and then nodded, turning around. That left only the two super soldiers standing next to the remains of the monster.

 

“He didn’t do it, Buck, not like that, not like they think.”

Steve told his best friend imploringly once Wanda had left.

He knew that Stephen must have had a good reason to do what he had done, he was sure of it. But suddenly Steve had the strong urge to see the same conviction in Bucky’s face, needed to know that his best friend was on his side, that he believed him.

 

As an answer the Winter Soldier gave him one of those looks Steve could never really interpret.

Bucky must have become aware of it as he changed his expression into a neutral one and used his actual voice to communicate.

“Have you seen Peter’s wound?”

 

Steve shook his head. He hadn’t have a chance to go to Peter before he was flown away, having to stop Tony from attacking the sorcerer.

“That was not a wound caused by the monster, Steve,” Bucky told him and looked at him expectantly.

 

Steve was confused. Again.

If it had not been the monster that had attacked Spiderman, how had he gotten injured? Had there been someone else fighting them earlier? Was that the reason Stephen had dropped the shield?

“An invisible enemy”, Steve muttered, speaking more to himself than to Bucky.

Who promptly whacked Steve over the head.

 

“Oww, what was that for?” Steve rubbed the spot on his head furiously. Bucky hadn’t put a lot of force behind the hit but Steve’s pride was a little hurt by being handled like an imbecile.

 

“An ‘invisible enemy’, really? That’s what you come up with, punk?”

Exasperated, that look on Bucky’s face definitely was exasperated.

“Yay, okay, that is maybe a bit far-fetched. Still, it was not necessary to hit me,” Steve grumbled.

 

Meanwhile Bucky had switched back to watching Steve like any second now he would have an epiphany and would understand what his best friend wanted to tell him.

No such luck.

Steve was still confused.

 

So Bucky continued, “Peter’s wound, I have already seen one like it before.”

Steve looked at him surprised.

“It was a few months ago. When we rescued you from that HYDRA facility. Some of the HYDRA soldiers had the same wounds afterwards. Wounds inflicted by magic.”

 

Suddenly, Steve grew very, very angry. All the stress about the situation, of nearly having to fight Tony again, of Stephen not reacting at all, of Natasha losing her cool and of Steve’s own incapability to do anything about it became too much, making him turn on his best friend:

 

“So what, you say that Stephen not only dropped the shield but attacked Peter himself? Really, Bucky? If that’s what you really think you’re not the person I thought you to be.”

How could Bucky even suggest something like that? He didn’t know Stephen as well as Steve does, but definitely better than the other Avengers, definitely good enough to know that the sorcerer would never attack Peter like that.

 

Bucky wore his exasperated face again but Steve did not care anymore, he had enough of thoughtless people accusing his boyfriend of doing horrendous things like shooting someone in the back.

This would end now.

He would get them all into one room and explain to them in very clear words that they were fighting to preserve a world where no one was judged without even having the chance to explain himself.

That Captain America would not tolerate his team becoming an angry mob, insulting and hurting others based on irrational emotions.

 

He was about to turn around and join the others at the quinjet, when Bucky spoke again.

“You still have not understood but it’s not that complicated, Stevie. Your boyfriend is not the only one with magic on this team”.

 

And suddenly Steve knew.

Knew what had happened today, knew what Stephen had been forced to do. And knew why he hadn’t said one word in his own defense afterwards. Knew who he had protected then.

Steve really was off his game today. He should have realized all that so much sooner.

 

And to top it all off he had let Stephen run off the scene without making sure that he was okay. That whatever the sorcerer had done today had not taken too much out of him. That he was not injured like Peter. He had failed him as his team leader and as his friend. And all that because Stephen thought he had to protect his boyfriend’s integrity. Steve’s integrity.

 

Deep inside he also felt disappointed at Wanda and guilty about his own role in all of it. Because it had to be her who had injured Peter. That meant that Stephen had dropped the shield to counteract whatever Wanda had been doing.

However, like before when Steve had been convinced of the sorcerer’s innocence, he was sure that Wanda would have never jeopardized the welfare of her teammates willingly.

For one reason or another, she must have lost control. Something Stephen had always warned him about. But she had been working so hard on her control, together with Steve. So what had gone wrong today? Did she have a problem with her magic, she hadn’t told Steve about? Like Stephen she seemed to be off when the fight was over.

 

Steve came to a stop. Whatever was wrong with Wanda had to wait. She was with her teammates right now, people who could help if she was in immediate danger. Stephen was alone.

He had to make sure that the sorcerer was okay and that he had not done something recklessly stupid like not telling his team leader about some serious injuries.

 

“I need to go, Bucky.”

 

Bucky nodded, a small smile playing around his lips.

“I’ll take care of the team. We’ll be waiting for you at the compound.”

The face he wore was the one Steve had named ‘good boy’. He was only graced with it, when Bucky thought that Steve had done something monumentally wrong and was now about to fix it.

 

While Bucky joined the other Avengers at the quinjet, Steve jogged up to some SHIELD vans parked at the edge of Central Park. The agents milling around were shooting him strange looks. They were probably confused why he wasn’t leaving with his team.

 

Steve came to a halt, grabbing some random agent, a young blonde with a tablet in her hand.

“I need a car. Which one is available?” The woman seemed to be a bit overwhelmed by the very imposing figure of Captain America currently clasping her upper arm but shakily pointed him to a dark sedan standing a few feet away.

“You.. You can take this one. The keys are in the ignition.”

 

Steve nodded his thanks and got into the car. He had thought about running to the Sanctum Sanctorum but the car was probably faster. The police had evacuated the streets around Central Park earlier to avoid any collateral damage, so Steve accelerated to a speed he normally would not be comfortable with in the city and rushed to Bleecker Street.

 

It only took him a few minutes to get there but during that short amount of time his worry had grown exponentially. Remembering the pale face of Stephen and his unusual silence, Steve cursed himself again for not having realized sooner what had been going on.

 

When he had reached his destination, he stopped in the middle of the street, jumped out of the still running car and ran to the front door of the Sanctum.

Only to smack straight into it.

 

Steve was a regular visitor at the New York Sanctum Sanctorum. As he was living at the Avenger’s compound, where privacy was a rare luxury, they normally met at Stephen’s place. After a few weeks Stephen had given him the magical equivalent to a house key.

The Sanctum Sanctorum was not protected by a simple lock but by very powerful magical barriers which Stephen had to lift for any visitors. So instead of giving Steve a key he had allowed him to pass trough the barriers at any time and without the sorcerer’s intervention.

That meant, that Steve normally just had to walk through the door, simple as that.

No door-opening necessary.

Until it suddenly was again.

 

For whatever reason Steve was not allowed to enter anymore. He sincerely hoped that this was just a not so subtle hint of his boyfriend that Steve had fucked up today and not because the Sanctum had gotten attacked in which case an even more powerful warding was activated as a safety measure.

Just one way to find out. Steve had to do it the old fashioned way.

He knocked.

 

No reaction.

He knocked again and called Stephen’s name.

Still no sound from inside.

But Steve wouldn’t be Captain America if he gave up that easily and so he started knocking and calling the sorcerer’s name at the same time, repeating it over and over again.

 

If his boyfriend really was sulking inside, he would eventually get sick of it, open the door and yell at Steve to stop. And if there was someone else inside, he or she (or it?) would probably also come outside to take care of Captain America. One way or the other, Steve would get through that door.

 

However, when the door finally opened and let Steve through, he was not prepared for it. Stumbling, he nearly crashed to the floor and so it took him a moment to take in the scene in front of him: Stephen, sitting at the top step of the grand staircase, shivering violently, eyes downcast, his head in his hands, knees pressed to his arms, hyperventilating and about to drop down the stairs.

 

To say that Steve was shocked by what greeted him inside the Sanctum would have been a big understatement, he was pretty sure that his heart stopped beating right there. But after having reacted always a second too late during the last hours, he was just on time when it really mattered.

Without hesitating, he rushed up the stairs, slid behind the sorcerer and pulled him back by his shoulders, preventing what would have probably been a fatal downfall.

 

Stephen made some sort of gurgling noise but other than that he did not acknowledge the presence behind him. Just as well, Steve knew exactly what was going on and how he could help his boyfriend.

 

He felt considerably more confident than he had during the hours before, as it was not the first time that he saw someone being in shock or having a panic attack after having fought a battle.

From time to time, all of his comrades during World War II would have seen or done something that had led to one state or the other. He and Bucky were no exception.

And even today he sometimes sat with Bucky to ward off a panic attack induced by sudden memories of his time as HYDRA’s killer, or to hold him when he came shivering to Steve’s room after an intense battle.

 

And apparently it was now Stephen’s turn.

There were different techniques to bring someone back from the brink of a panic attack and to treat shock symptoms. Steve didn’t know yet what would work with the sorcerer as he had never seen him like that before but he would find out now.

 

First, he pulled the sorcerer farther back from the stairs. Then he started to rub Stephen’s arms and back, making his physical presence known and trying to give some comfort by warming the shaking body. When this didn’t work and Stephen’s erratic breathing grew worse, he pulled him more into his own body, carefully grabbed one of the sorcerer’s scarred hands and started to breathe with him.

 

He took measured breaths, not too deep so that Stephen could follow them and guided him with his voice and the pressure of his arm. Slowly, the sorcerer began to match his breaths and Steve’s hand that he had put above his boyfriend’s heart let him know that also the pulse became more regular.

 

“Steve”. It was faint, but still audible for someone with super-hearing. Stephen must have calmed down enough to recognize who was currently holding him. The soldier allowed himself a small smile, restraining himself from smoothing back that one unruly lock of hair always falling over Stephen’s forehead but instead continuing his ministrations to keep the sorcerer breathing.

 

For a moment Steve asked himself if this was not the first time that Stephen had to go through this, not the first time he had a panic attack post-fight. If his tendency to disappear immediately after a battle was won had nothing to do with Tony or SHIELD, but because he didn’t want the others to witness him breaking down. If he preferred to suffer alone than to accept any comfort from his boyfriend. If this was the reason why Steve had not been allowed to enter the Sanctum before. Because Stephen had wanted to keep him out, consciously or not, the ban only being lifted when the sorcerer had been about to faint.

That was a question for later, one he would definitely demand an answer to.

He sincerely hoped, that the answer would be a loud ‘no’ combined with the slightly condescending look Stephen normally gave him, when he thought that Steve had challenged his intellect in any way.

 

Which Steve never did, really. But Stephen had the tendency to neglect himself comfort even if he desperately needed it. As a doctor he understood the necessity to keep himself healthy and that wounds should be treated properly, they never had any discussions about that. Unfortunately, he did not have the same level of recognition when it came to his emotional health.

 

Oh, he didn’t seem to have any problems to understand the importance of emotional comfort when it came to Steve. The moment the sorcerer sensed anything wrong with his boyfriend he was like a dog with a bone, always prying out what was troubling the soldier one way or another and trying to make it better once he knew what the problem was.

 

However, it took Steve a long time to break down enough of the walls the sorcerer had build around himself to make him understand that this was a two-way road. That what a relationship was about was to be able to trust your partner enough to open up to him, even if that made you vulnerable.

 

Although it was still more often thanks to Steve’s initiative that they were talking at all about any of Stephen’s emotions, there had been more and more moments, when Stephen came to him, wanting to talk about what was occupying his mind, about his anxieties or his failures. And on some very rare occasions he would just open a portal to the compound, grab Steve and pull him down on the couch in the library of the Sanctum to cuddle with him. At these times he clearly needed physical comfort more than any words and Steve was glad that he could give it to him.

 

With great relief Steve noticed that the sorcerer had gone back to a regular rhythm of breathing and that his former blue lips had regained some color. Stephen must have felt the same relief as a sigh escaped his lips.

It was time for the next step then.

Before Steve could get his boyfriend somewhere warm where he could stave off the last remnants of his breakdown, he needed Stephen to relax his cramped muscles at least a little bit in order to prevent a new breathing crisis.

 

He went back to stroking the sorcerer’s arm and legs trying to make him a bit more comfortable and told him to relax. After some time he felt the first effects of his ministrations, Stephen gradually relaxing into his arms until he was leaning completely against his chest.

 

That was the moment when his lucky strike ended and the situation that Steve had had so very much under control, slipped away from him.

Because Stephen told him about Wanda.

And Steve said that he knew, without thinking about how that must have sounded to the not yet clearly thinking sorcerer.

Which provoked a very angry reply of a very hurt Stephen, having finally opened his eyes and trying to stab Steve with the fury blazing in them.

It ended with a new panic attack.

And a hyperventilating Sorcerer Supreme.

Desperately trying to break free from Captain America’s grip.

Who could not let him go, because the stairs where still just right in front of them.

Under no circumstance would he let Stephen anywhere near them, not when he was lost like this.

 

So he sat there, hanging onto his boyfriend who was a shaking and not-breathing mess and Steve was at a total loss what to do. How he could make this right again? How could he make Stephen breathing again?

The situation seemed to grow worse instead of better and Stephen just would not listen.

Didn’t hear his voice, didn’t hear Steve pleading with him, didn’t hear explaining himself. How he didn’t mean what Stephen had him heard saying.

 

Until he finally, finally did.

Listen to Steve.

And breathe again.

 

At that point, Steve wasn’t much better off then the sorcerer, having tears in his eyes and shivering himself all over.

That was probably why his first try at talking was not very successful, as his boyfriend only heard Steve laying the blame for the misunderstanding on him.

Which he did not. But judging by Stephen’s face that’s what he had heard.

(Contrary to his communication with Bucky, Steve had never any difficulties to read his boyfriend’s different faces.)

So the soldier forced himself to calm down before he said anything else that could be misunderstood. So that he could explain to Stephen that he hadn’t known before what Wanda had done but only afterwards, when it was explained to him by Bucky.

 

He took a deep breath and then gently forced Stephen to look him into his eyes. He wanted him to see his face when he told him in the clearest words he could find what he had known or rather what had not known.

This time he was more successful, Stephen accepted his explanation and finally relaxed into his arms again. However, he was still shivering and Steve decided that he needed to get him to bed now if he wanted to get rid of the residual effects of shock that were still gripping the sorcerer’s body.

 

Maybe he even could make Stephen fall asleep for a little bit. He knew that they didn’t have a lot of time, but he also knew how utterly exhausting an attack like that was and how much sleep a body needed to recover from it.

 

Later, Steve would have to return to the compound. He trusted Bucky to handle the others, they were probably all sitting in front of the medical wing, waiting on news about Peter, anyway.

 

But Natasha had been right about one thing. Steve was their leader and he had to handle this situation. He had to tell them what had really happened and had to decide what to do about Wanda.

Although, he was not sure how much control he had over her future anymore.

 

He knew, that Stephen would insist on bringing her to Kamar Taj, that’s what he had been wanting to do since the first time he had met Wanda. And while Steve had always been against it, was always convinced that what Wanda really needed was a stable environment with trusted people around her, he started to doubt, if it really had been the best decision.

 

Steve had thought that by providing Wanda the stability she had lacked during her childhood and by being her a friend and a mentor, she would become responsible and strong enough to control her magic. And that she would not hesitate to come to him if she ever had any problems with it. He had thought his strategy to be successful, especially after Thanos.

 

Wanda had had a big crisis after the titan had killed Vision but she never closed herself off to Steve. Even when she had lashed out at everyone else she would talk to him and let him guide her through her grief. At that time, she had never used her powers in any way that would have been threatening to her or to others. She knew about her responsibility to always control her powers. At least that’s what Steve had thought. Because today something must have happened for her losing control. And judging by her silence afterwards she was either not willing to be honest about her actions and protect Stephen from the wrong accusations, or she had been too shocked by her own actions to react at all.

 

Stephen had never really believed in Steve’s way of handling Wanda but he had believed in Steve. And while he had continued to watch the Scarlet Witch closely, the sorcerer had also never approached her again about an education at Kamar Taj.

Steve hoped that this wouldn’t bring Stephen into any troubles with the other sorcerers now. And he hoped that Wanda would understand that she could not avoid the Sorcerer Supreme any longer, that even if today’s events had not been intended by her, she would need to face the consequences. And Steve with her.

 

He needed to talk to her first thing, once he had returned to the compound.

Maybe they could find a way to handle today’s events that was acceptable for her and for Stephen?

And if she had to go to Kamar Taj, maybe he could accompany her?

 

Steve shook his head and stopped his train of thoughts, because if he wanted to have some say in what would follow he needed to do things one after the other and right now that meant taking care of Stephen first. He looked at the man laying against his chest. His eyes were closed again, the breathing still a little hitched but that was nothing compared to the hyperventilating from before.

 

Even though Steve felt guilty about his lack of control over the situation right after the battle, he was very relieved that he had arrived on time at the Sanctum and that he could help his boyfriend now. Because in the end, that’s what Steve would always choose before everything else. Stephen was his number one priority now.

 

Of course, that didn’t mean that he didn’t love being an Avenger, that he wasn’t dedicated to his responsibilities as team leader or that he didn’t care about Wanda and her future. But all of this came second to what he had with Stephen. For the first time in his life Steve felt real happiness, not just for a moment or for a day. It was a basic emotion that was now always part of him, even when he was angry or sad.

 

There were still days when he was sad for everything he had lost from ‘before’, for the Howling Commandos, for Peggy, for the life he could not live. But it was not the crippling sadness anymore that had sometimes paralyzed him for days. Instead he now let himself remember all the friends lost, let himself being sad for some time and then he went to visit Stephen, who just had to look at him and give him one of his smiles to make him feel full of happiness again.

 

Those smiles were one of the things he loved most about the sorcerer. They were a special kind of smile, only reserved for Steve. Someone who didn’t know Stephen well would probably not even recognize them as his mouth only hinted at it. But his eyes. His eyes told Steve that his boyfriend felt the same thing as he does whenever they lay eyes on each other: happiness. Happiness for seeing the other, for being able to share their time together.

For having someone to take care of and for being taken care of.

For having someone to trust and for being trusted in return.

For having someone to love and for being loved.

 

So Steve acted on his first priority. He gently picked up the shivering bundle in his arms, put Stephen to bed, tucked him in, comforted him and watched over him, keeping him as safe as he could for the moment.

 

That’s all that could be done right now.

 

And the rest could be done together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you liked the story.  
> I am currently working on a sequel where it will explained why Wanda acted the way she did and how the boys do all of what is coming their way together ;-)

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will be Steve's point of view


End file.
